A Thousand Shards
by LeaMichelle
Summary: Sometimes, the wrong things happen from saying the wrong words. Sometimes, one takes the wrong actions to fix those words. Inuyasha knows he said the wrong thing. But how can there ever be a right way after what he've done?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, nor do I own the plot of _Chronicles, _by Sueric. This is a parallel story, a what-if, if you will, to her amazing story. You can still read and understand this story without having first read _Chronicles, _though I recommend you do, it's very good.

A Thousand Shards

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Four days.

It had been four days. Four times, he had looked at the same place. Four times, one for every morning. Four times, he had watched darkness fade slowly into light. For he never slept. Not anymore. And for four days, the light had turned brighter with the rising sun. The day would glow, with such bright intensity, before once again fading slowly into blackness. Blackness, where everything had gone.

Four mornings, and Miroku hadn't returned.

And Inuyasha knew. He knew, with a deep sinking feeling in his gut, that he was never going to. He was never, going to return. He bit down on his tongue as the rising horror of it all rose up within him, drowning him, consuming his every pore, invading all corners of his mind.

It was all him, all of it. Everything was his fault, and he knew it. He could feel the bleak, utter blackness of it seeping through him, nearly complete. The blackness had been creeping in slowly, for the past couple of months.

Three months.

That's all it had taken, three months. And at first, it had seem wonderful. Magnificent, bright and pure.

Pure.

He leaned his head against Goshinboku, closing his eyes. The jewel had been so pure, so very pure sitting in the palm of Kagome's small hand. At the very moment of contact, finally having been separated from Narraku's grasp, it had turned nearly white. Faint traces of pink swirling in it's foggy depths. She had been so happy. Her face had glowed with the accomplishment. Everyone, was happy. Even Sango, who in the end, didn't have Kohaku. They had all been sweaty, tired, and in all cases but Kagome's, bloody. And it had hardly mattered. It had seemed, that all was good, all was going to be good. No, not even good. Fantastic, marvelous, extraordinary—because he was gone. Narraku was gone, and their lives could finally begin, they could stop worrying, stop fighting.

They never stopped fighting.

They had traveled back to the village, the jewel whole, and still unpurified. And it had become clear, that the damn thing really had to go. Demons were still attracted to it, and they began flocking to them by hordes, Narraku was no longer there to present the threat of being absorbed. And so, like always, they had fought. They were fighting, again. Sango, Miroku, Shippo and Kirrara were there as well. They had become silent after everyone had put their own two cents in, content to listen to the two of them bicker it out.

"But if we wish for Onigumo to never have been born, then so many lives would have been saved!"

"Look, wench, that would change things too damn much, that's too life altering, what if everything get's fucked up? And then we can't fucking fix it, stupid bitch."

"It is not, Inuyasha,"

"Yes, yes it is. All of your ideas are so stupid."

Kagome's face screwed up in that way that Inuyasha secretly thought was funny, and he knew what was coming.

"Osuwari! Osuwari, osuwari, osuwari!"

And he had quite literally, bit the dirt, much to everyone's amusement. That was just it, the others thought it was funny. No one was taking it seriously. He pried his face off the ground, scowling. And then he said it, he did it—

"Damn it wench, I really wish you would just shut the fuck up! Just, stop talking!"

He had received a glare from her for his efforts, and she of course opened her pretty little mouth to keep right on talking. And nothing came out. Not a sound. A look of utter confusion came across her face, as she furiously tried to work her throat.

Silence.

Her hands flew to her neck, a look of utter panic, and that's when everyone noticed. The jewel was no longer in Kagome's hands. In fact, it was no where to be found. He remembered looking desperately for it everywhere, yelling that she had fucking lost it, sure that it must have just fallen and rolled away in the grass somewhere… Refusing to believed what must have obviously happened.

But she hadn't.

A month went by.

Sango and Miroku had built their own small little hut, right next to Kede's. They were dead set on starting their little family, but of course, Kagome and Inuyasha were always welcomed. And more times than not, everyone was crowded into the little hut every night for dinner and idle chatter. But always, always, there was a heavy strain in the conversations, the one thing that they all constantly thought about, but was never brought up.

What was it that Kagome would say? The elephant in the room? He thought the saying was stupid, even if he understood what it meant.

But he would give anything, anything, to hear her say it again. To say as many stupid things as she wanted, to say anything. Anything at all.

She couldn't.

She would sit with them, smile at them, nod or shake her head, write in her little notebook to them, but she would never talk again.

All because of him.

And he felt awful, terrible, like scum, the very scum Sesshomaru knew he was, wretched to the core, like he should fall on his sword. He didn't even bother to apologize. Not that he hadn't tried. But his throat would get closed up, his brain would start whirling, and his eyes would do that curious prickling thingy, and all of this would add up so that he couldn't say anything for hours. It wasn't what she felt like, he was stopped by is own feelings, she was stopped by him.

It didn't matter anyway, if he said he was sorry. So, so, sorry. So very, very sorry. Because then, she would smile at him. That beautiful, heart stopping smile that he didn't deserve. And she would forgive him. He knew she would. And he didn't want her to.

It was unforgiveable, unforgiveable, unforgiveable… damn him… damn him… damn him…

And then, there was that awful day.

It had been in the middle of the day, the middle of the fucking day, in broad daylight. The days had started to get cold. Winter was fast approaching, and Inuyasha, to vent out his many feelings, had offered to cut up firewood for Sango and Miroku who accepted graciously. He had also offered because he knew Miroku wouldn't leave Sango unless absolutely, strictly necessary. Inuyasha didn't blame him. No one knew what was wrong. Sango had said her stomach hurt. This was odd in itself, Sango never admitted to pain. She wouldn't eat, she said it was painful to drink, though Keade made her. Kagome had stayed by Sango's and Miroku's side as well, almost just as faithful as Miroku to the demon slayer. Kagome had run out of her little notebook paper. Everyone was secretly hoping that some random demon would come along for them to exterminate. Because then, for once, they could accept payment and buy Kagome parchment. Parchment was very expensive, not even Keade and Miroku, the only literate ones in the village, (other than, secretly, Inuyasha,) owned parchment. And Inuyasha had the sneaking suspicion that Kagome knew what was wrong. She had a frantic, desperate look about her, that only grew as Sango's condition worsen.

That day, Shippo, wanting to leave the stifling hut with it's hushed worries, had gone out by the well to play with one of his few toys. Or at least, where the well used to be.

Oh, hahaha, did he forget to mention, not only had he dammed her, he had prevented her from ever seeing her family again? They had returned to the village, and Kagome, full of tears, had made straight for the well. He hadn't followed her. He was going to let her go, what say did an asshole like him have anymore? Fucking none, obviously. Of course, he had gone over there several hours later, only to find her still here. Sitting, in a ruin of wood and rubble, green grass where the portal had once been.

Like it had never been there at all.

She wasn't crying.

Or at least, not any more. She just sat there, looking up at him, her expression, hallow, lost. And he could do nothing, nothing but look on helplessly, not even feeling like he had the right to hold her. This was his fault too.

Anyways.

Shippo had been playing. And, playing, and playing. He wasn't home by dinner time. He had been gone for hours. Kagome and Inuyasha had gone looking for him, going straight for the well, knowing that was Shippo's favorite spot.

Damn, damn, damn the new moon.

Damn his own weak senses.

He hadn't smelled him. Either of them. He hadn't smelled Shippo's blood, or he would have never let Kagome see it. He didn't smell—what was his name? The intruder. The bastard, the murderer. Whose scent was vaguely familiar. He had to watch, watch helplessly once again. Watch Kagome hug Shippo's cold, blood soaked body to her chest. Had watched as she cried silently, sitting once again where the well had stood only a month ago. He had to swallow back his own tears, his own horror. The image was printed in his mind, haunting. His green eyes had been wide open, staring unblinkingly at the sky, dull, soulless.

Why, why Shippo? What had he ever done? It had never really occurred to him, that Shippo would ever be anyone's target. In fights, he never drew any attention to himself at all. So who, who would want to kill him?

He didn't remember that scent… that scent… that scent…

After the horror, came the overwhelming anger. He would kill, kill that fucker. For killing Shippo. For making Kagome cry. Even though, it was really him who made her cry, he hadn't been there… never been there…And, like the dumbass he was, he had gone charging off into the forrest to look for the bastard. He was positive that Kagome knew where he had gone. But damn him again for leaving her alone to deal with Shippo. She had to carry his corpse with her to the village, because she could only show them what happened, she couldn't just fucking tell them.

Damn him…

He had come back, of course, empty handed. After a month of searching. He didn't know why he was gone for so long. Yes, he was determined to find the bastard and gut him, but he knew there was a small part of himself that didn't want to go back. He wanted to leave his pain behind. He didn't want to face it, face his own failures. In the end, he went back for Kagome. Yes, he was a selfish bastard, even then. He hadn't realized how much pain she would be in. But then, he didn't know he had left Sango too.

He had arrived, on the day of her funeral. Inuyasha would never, never forget the empty, sunken eyes of Miroku.

Keade had explained to him. Sango had started coughing up blood. Lots of it. She wouldn't move. No eating, no drinking. Her skin grew paler, her eyes grew dull. Like Shippo's. Like Miroku's. In the end, they never found out why she had died. Except maybe, Kagome. Kagome had to go through two deaths, alone.

Damn him.

So now, four days. Four days since Miroku disappeared.

And the blackness was thick, consuming, numbing. There had been nothing he could do, he was to blame. Everything was dead, gone. Did devastation follow him wherever he went? Did everyone he love have to be tainted and destroyed? That was it. Ovbiously. He was damned, and he damned everyone along with him. What could he do…

He knew there was something he could do. He had put it off, put it off too long, because he was a selfish bastard. It would kill him inside, but he would do it.

Kagome.

He jumped down from the tree, his thoughts numb, but firm and determined. Well, it faltered slightly when he caught that scent on the breeze, getting stronger with every passing second he stood there. That wonderful, intoxicating scent. The most wonderful scent in the world, the one he craved with every fiber of his being, the one he could never get enough of.

'_Go, go now, before she sees you._

For some reason, he didn't move. He glared down at his feet. The fuck weren't they moving? He was telling them to, damn it. His eyes flew up as she approached him. Beautiful, kind, silent Kagome. She looked sadly at him, then towards the forrest. She shook her head solemnly, a sad smile on her face. And Inuyasha knew that she knew, too.

Miroku wasn't coming back.

His voice choked up, once again.

'_No, no, I have to tell her, tell her something._

"Kagome," his voice cracked, came out broken, hoarse. "Kagome, I'm sorry," _'Why is this so easy? _"about everything. It's all," he swallowed, "all my fault." He clenched his fist, his claws digging deeply into his palms. She came forward, shaking her head vigorously, he could see tears filling her eyes. He would never forget those eyes.

Eyes… so many pairs of eyes… Midnight blue, chocolate brown, magenta, violet, green…

She hugged him.

He swallowed, again, hard. He felt like something was clawing to get out of him, something was fighting to erupt, explode out of his chest, he had some odd, Shikon sized lump in his throat that he couldn't get rid of, and his eyes were burning. He hugged her back fiercely, pressing her warm body to his, wrapping his arms tightly about her frame. "I'm leaving," he croked out softly. He felt her stiffen, arms lock around him, felt her press her wet, soaked cheek to his neck. He smiled grimly. It wouldn't be hard to pry her arms away. He buried his face in her soft hair, inhaling her scent deeply, imprinting it forever in his memory. Sweet, intoxicating, pure. Like some delicious forbidden fruit. This would have to last him a while. A good long while.

A forever while.

He held her for a long time. Or maybe it was only minutes.

He slowly drew back, even though she was fighting to keep him, fighting to hold onto him, to keep him pressed to her chest. He smiled grimly again. He took her arms, and almost effortlessly, pulled them away from him. She let out a choked, silent sob. Tears were streaming, sparkling down her beautiful heart shaped face, making tracks. He cupped a hand to her cheek, attempting to wipe them away with the pad of his thumb. The salty drops just kept coming, rolling down in frequent waves. Her skin was so soft. He hated to see Kagome cry. He knew she wanted him to stay. And it was tempting… so tempting… But he was done. He was done being selfish, he was going to do the right thing, for her. For Kagome.

Miroku was never going to return.

And nither was he.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Yes yes, for something that was prewritten, sure took me long enough. Vay Kay, you understand. (vacation,)

Disclaimer: Well… the statement says it all.

Part II

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She still felt numb. It had been a whole month. A whole month without Inuyasha. And she was still here, still here in the village. She had taken up residence in Sango and Miroku's hut, not wanting to be too much of a bother to Keade. Goodness knows the old woman was sad too, she didn't need a 17 year old following her around 24/7. The hut felt still, haunted. Same in Keade's hut. All she could do was remember. Remember what had happen. They had had such good times in Keade's hut, eating, laughing, joking. She could see all their smiling faces flickering in the firelight, the smell of good food in the air. Treating their wounds. Playing with Shippo. Rubbing Kirrara. She didn't know what had become of the fire cat, she too had disappeared. Kagome couldn't blame them.

Except Inuyasha.

And in this hut, so much sadness. Miroku's pained, worried face. Sango's labored breathing. Sango, sitting bolt upright in the middle of the night, only to cough up thick, black blood. She had an idea, that Sango was facing some sort of pregnancy complications. Sango had been telling her for months that she and Miroku were trying to have a baby, and Sango had made it clear her lower stomach was the part hurting. But she couldn't say anything. She chuckled darkly to herself. And then what, what could she have done anyway? Short of cutting Sango's womb apart and taking the fetus out, which in this era would have killed her reguardless. Her friend was doomed from the start. She didn't dare think about Miroku. She tried not to think about them at all. But they were everywhere, in the gardens, the huts, the hot springs, the forrest. It wouldn't have been so bad, if he had—but he hadn't—stayed. She could have done anything, so long as she had him. She understood why he did it. She knew, it had been slowly eating away at him from the inside out.

Inuyasha.

She could see the guilt, the pain, the self loathing in his eyes every time he looked at her. She didn't blame him, not once, not for any of it. Inuyasha would have never purposefully made that wish, he didn't know, he wasn't thinking. Inuyasha was always telling her to shut up, but he never meant it. Kagome had a theory that he said that because he secretly liked her talking to him. She could see the horror in his face for their friends. He might have been affected the most. He had never had friends his whole life, and the ones he did manage to make, his own small family, had died. Except her. Sometimes, she wished… No. No she didn't. She would never, never want Inuyasha to do that to himself, so she couldn't either. Even if he did leave. Because he blamed himself. So long as he was alive…

She would keep on going too.

She wondered, for the millionth time, if anything would have changed if she had followed him.

Why hadn't she followed him?

Why hadn't she at the very least, tried? Because, she knew if Inuyasha really wanted to leave her behind, he would make sure he did. But now she would never know, she should have tried… She entertained the idea that she would give him time, and he would come back to her. Or she would go to him. That was it, the one thought she constantly clung to, it had to be, it was all she had. It had to work. And she had to be strong, be useful, be someone. Someone he would want to keep. Someone he wouldn't feel he had to protect. A small voice in the back of her mind would prod her, telling her that she would have no idea where to find him. Where to even start.

She was training with Keade.

It was difficult, to say the least. The lack of communication was a strain, but they were making do. Kagome thought of the idea of writing in the mud if it came down to it. The training itself was hard, wearing. She was immensely grateful for it. It distracted her, gave her something to do, and put her right to sleep at night. Which was exactly what she needed. To be awake, to have thinking time, to have dreams, would kill her. Like now. Keade had insisted she have a day off for her body to recuperate, at least some. She hadn't known what to do with herself. She had found herself wandering through the village, donning her now typical priestess garb. At first she had been extremely put off by the idea of wearing Kikyo's usual attire. But she didn't want to wear her modern day clothes either. She wanted to fit in, at least a little, and besides. She wanted to save them, preserve them. She was deathly afraid something would happen to them, wear and tear maybe, and she wouldn't have the reminders of her home. She had some books. She had been done with school, but she still had some books for reading pleasure when the hunt for Narraku had been slow. She had some bath supplies, lotions, shampoos, soap, etc. But again, she wanted to save them. She was becoming more and more a woman of feudal Japan, with every passing day.

And she knew, Inuyasha blamed himself for that too. She knew she couldn't possibly have both worlds, she had intended to stay here anyway. This time had become more of a home than anywhere. But still, she wished she could have said goodbye. She still missed them.

She had played with the village children. This had reminded her painfully of Shippo, but it had kept her busy. The villagers were friendly to her. They thought of her as the village' new miko. A substitute, perhaps, in case Keade ever-

No.

She didn't want to think about that either. Keade was the last thing she had.

Keade was old.

Kagome sighed. Morning couldn't come nearly fast enough.

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He couldn't believe, he was doing this. This was not him, he would never have done this. Kagome would never expect this of him. Would she have wanted him to do this? Inuyasha angrily pushed the thoughts of Kagome out of his head, gripping the bridle of his horse with unnecessary force.

Yes, yes, he was riding a damn horse. He hated horses. He knew he could go a hell of a lot faster on his own two feet. And that was why, the horse was demonic. Any ordinary horse, this would have been true. But here, he didn't really know. The horse was black, pure black. And it was dubbed his. He had never tried to run with the beast, and he wouldn't, if he could help it. But Katasan had said that nobility rode horses. Nobility didn't walk like peasants.

That made him all the more disgusted with it. He wasn't better than any peasant. The horse was a gift from Katasan.

At first, Inuyasha had simply wandered aimlessly, so long as he was as far away from Keade's village as possible. And then somewhere along the way, he had wandered into Katasan's lands. Katasan had been a strong follower of his father's, some sort of right-hand-man or some shit like that. Katasan himself had spotted him.

He had been doing nothing, just sitting in a tree, trying not to think too hard about life, when he had heard his voice. Inuyasha had been immediantly spooked. This man, had looked eerily similar to his bastard brother, except for the one glaring difference: Katasan's hair was a tawny gold. And then, creepily, he had said his name.

"Inuyasha sama, what brings you here?" he had said idly, as if either way it wasn't any big deal.

"Keh, who are you?" Inuyasha could have smacked himself. One would think he should know, seeing as the man clearly knew him.

The man below gave him a wire smile. "Inuyasha sama, why don't you come down?"Inuyasha came down. After stating his name, Katasan had started walking away. Inuyasha had the feeling he was suppose to follow him.

What the hell, he had nothing better to do.

He had gotten an invitation, after much talking, (more on Katasan's part,) to come back to his castle. He did. And while there, he had found out some disturbing information.

He knew his mother was a princess. Princess Izayoi. No one at that castle had ever called her by her name, she was simply referred to as, "Princess." Inuyasha didn't quite know why that was. Was it a sign of respect, or disrespect? Apparently, his father had once owned, ruled, Musashi. Except he had given the rights over to Izayoi's father in exchange for her hand, even though she was priorly engaged to Takemaru. So the humans had taken over the land instead of the honorable dog demons.

Or so Katasan said.

Katasan also informed him that, since Izayoi had no other siblings, he—Inuyasha- was the rightful ruler, by birth, of Musashi, if he so wished to claim it. This had been stunning, mind reeling news to Inuyasha. He had veonmly refused to believe it, and even if it were refused to claim anything. It had taken the better part of a month for Katasan to convince him otherwise. He had nowhere to go, and Katasan had made sure that Inuyasha knew he could stay.

Katasan. Inuyasha had the faintest feeling that there was something not quite right about him. Yet… He never slighted him, never paid any mind to his hanyou heritage. Or at least, he was very good at hiding his opinion on that matter. He asked him for advice, talked to him as an equal, reminisced about the old days, and generally seemed to care about Inuyasha's thoughts and opinions. Inuyasha would prefer to believe that he was not starved for attention, that he was not drawn to any and all sources of kindness, that he was not attempting to fill any such void he had created thanks to certain raven haired females… Nope, not at all. But he wondered subconsciously if he was. He wouldn't quite call Katasan a friend. He didn't know what Katasan was to him. But he had nowhere to go, and nothing better to do.

Nothing better to do.

That was what he was telling himself now, as he rode on some strange demonic horse, with Katasan and a bunch of other demons, to some poor bloke's castle. These demons were supposedly going to be part of his new guard, which Katasan was convinced was necessary. Inuyasha didn't know. He didn't know what he would need, what he would want… what the fuck he was doing? It felt wrong, this all felt wrong somehow, but for the life of him he didn't know how. And it wasn't just that he was wearing fancy, black dragons hide armor that in his opinion, was entirely too snug. That he was somehow coaxed into braiding his hair, wearing black leather boots, hand guards, and a helmet, a shield on his back, (fucking useless piece of junk,) which were all stifling and too expensive. Or that he was riding a damn horse. No, something other than the fact that he was suddenly dressed like somebody, somebody not dirty, like he was somehow superior to people. Like he was better than a peasant. And Inuyasha knew for damn certain he was absolutely no better than any peasant. But that wasn't the only thing wrong.

All he knew is that he would be busy. He would have something to do. Something to preoccupy his feelings, his mind, his memories…

Very important, you understand.

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A/N: Yep, kinda short. I'm too lazy to change it, but I'm aware that in this story I mix up Japanese and English terms and they clash horribly. Ah… I will fix them at a later date, please review.

No, damn it, press the review button.

Thanks ^-^


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hey guys. Your reviews really cheered me up, and I'm really grateful. Last night, I received my report card for 11th grade, and it had a big, terrible I for English, (incomplete.) And I had no idea how it got there. Apparently my teacher did not receive the emailed essay exam, and I'm screwed because now I don't have anything—it's lost. I'm so pissed, and sad. I'm spending the entire day today rewriting it. But you know how the original is always better than the first, and you can never quite make it sound as good? Yeah I'm thinking about that.

So, make me really happy and send me lots of reviews!

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He sat on his large futon, Indian style and arms crossed. He loathed his armor. He was forced to wear it as a daily attire. It was protection. Protection from what? It was intimidating. Intimidating to who? It cleaned easily. You calling me dirty?

He didn't like it. He didn't like the hand guards. They stunted his ability to feel. It covered the front and back of his hands, joining together like some ring around his middle finger. The fabric—he didn't know what in the hell it was made out of—was pliable, at least. He could move his hand freely enough. And he didn't like the color black. He never wanted to be dressed head to toe in it. He found some small satisfaction in the fact that at least it wasn't white, like bastard Sesshomaru. All in all, he missed his firerat haori , with sleeves he could tuck himself away in. Nope, now he was resorted to arm crossing. Which just made him look pissed off.

Not that he wasn't.

Inuyasha glared at the room. It was lavish. But he supposed it had to be, or it wouldn't be the lord's room. He was annoyed. He was annoyed with it all. They were all swarming him. He had servants—servants! Following him around everywhere. He had advisors, goddamn advisors, telling him what to do. What decisions to make, what to say, what to act.

In the end, it had been all too easy. They had seen the demons, heard what Katasan had to say about Inuyasha, and had immediantly given up. Out of fear, probably. A human army stood no chance. No fight. Inuyasha sorely wished there had been a fight. He would have loved to take some sort of frustration out on someone. Right after thinking that, he changed his mind. He would be fighting humans.

The humans.

Lots of the humans had left. Though lots of them stayed. The royal human family previously were still here, just living more modestly. There were still humans of the court. Thing was, there were becoming less and less of them, and more and more demons. He felt somewhat bad about that. To how many people, had left what they called home because of him? Katasan had told him not to worry. Fucker was always saying that. Except, in the last several months, Katasan hadn't been here.

He often wondered what in the hell the older inuyoukai was doing, wasn't he the one that was so interested in Musashi? The one who insisted, for several months, for him to take this action? And then, he suddenly didn't seem interested at all. It was confusing, to say the least. And he didn't much like confusing things, so he didn't dwell to much on the topic.

He was still plenty busy. He had dinners, balls, hunts to go to, papers to sign, people to talk to, other castles and domains to visit, meetings to attend, and decisions to make. And all of it, was highly against his will. The only thing he didn't mind was the training, the sparring. Every day, he would go to the dojo, and practice with the rest of his guard. Katasan had insisted that his fighting skills be formidable. This he didn't mind. Maybe, if he was stronger he could—

No.

Maybe if he was stronger, none of it would have happened.

He closed his eyes, willed his thoughts to go away. Where was his annoyance? He had finally achieved some peace, and suddenly he found he didn't want it. He thought longingly of Goshinboku. The tree had always offered him some semblance of comfort. He was somewhat close to it. Close to the village. He had traveled further, only to end up closer. He wondered briefly if his father ever sat in Goshinboku. He wondered where his mother had lived before becoming a princess. He wondered if Kagome was all right.

There.

He had finally allowed himself to think her name. He sighed, letting his breath out in one loud whoosh.

He thought about her. It would have been easier to lose Kikyo again. Even in the beginning, his thoughts were more brooding, regretfull, remorseful for her, for what they once had. He thought he could not live without, and he had felt bitter. This was not the way he felt now, about Kagome. He felt a great, yearning, an incredible pain, he was always tired. Everything seemed to remind him of her, everything seemed more dull, the thought of her name hurt. But it hurt too, not to think of her. Despite his best efforts, he thought about her every day. Every hour, every minute. Every second. She was always somewhere, somewhere in his mind. Always with him. Her snell. Her voice. Her laugh, the warmth of her in his arms, the way she looked.

She had looked beautiful, even when she was crying. .

He felt stupid, like a fool, but he couldn't help himself. This was how the people in Kagome's romance novels acted, and it was incredibly stupid. And yet, he was acting worse than them, to his resentment and desperation. For the first month, he refused to bathe, or take his clothes off at all. Kagome's scent still lingered on his clothes, was still on his skin. It had been the only way for him to sleep at night, grabbing his shirt in his hands and bringing it up to his nose. He didn't have that any more. The scents had long since worn off, and he wasn't suppose to wear his old clothes anyway. He hated the armor, but he almost preferred it. Red haori was old Inuyasha. Selfish Inuyasha, weak Inuyasha. The Inuyasha who had friends. The Inuyasha who had Kagome, to an extent. He lived that life in his old clothes, so why not live his new one in new clothes? His logic sounded twisted, even to himself.

Eight months.

It had been eight months since he had left.

Eleven months, since the jewel was completed.

Nine months, since Shippo died.

Ten months, since Sango's funeral, and Miroku walked away.

Eleven months, his heart had been hurting.

Almost a full year.

A wave of relief washed through him. Yes, finally, people were beginning to leave. Which meant he, too, could finally fucking leave.

He set his empty cup of sake on the low table in front of his cushion, preparing to go to his room.

"Leaving so soon, Inuyasha sama? Surely you can stay, the entertainment's just about to begin,"

Inuyasha glanced up. Normistsu was smirking at him, along with his companions also gathered around the table. He had long, oily black hair, thick bushy eyebrows, and the usual golden eyes typical for any dog demon.

Inuyasha glanced away, his lip curling. This, was one youkaie Inuyasha didn't like. But he had to play nice. Normitsu owned quite a bit of land, which meant that if Inuyasha pissed him off, there could be a teensy fight, and the peace they had apparently had for centuries would shatter. Inuyasha didn't see what the big deal was. His men were good. He had seen so for himself. If he had any friends at all in the place, they were in his Guard. His Captain was his favorite. His name was Shingi, and he reminded Inuyasha vaguely of Miroku. Which was a small stab every time Inuyasha saw him, but he had decided that ultimately, Shingi's company was all right. The man was tall and broad, with a bulky build about him. He was obviously several decades Inuyasha's senior. Shingi had that sage, knowledgeable air about him that Miroku always seemed to carry, seeming to know things without actually knowing. And he was by far the best fighter there. He was his favorite opponent. The point being, he felt confident that if Normitsu hated him, it was no skin off his balls.

Inuyasha sneered at Normitsu, but sat back down on his silk cushion, crossing his arms. By entertainment, he ment more sake, and whores. They always came out to entertain any of the men who were still left after the evening meal. And he stayed because his advisors had very strongly asked (more like pleaded and begged,) him to keep Normitsu pacified through out the duration of his stay. He had said he wouldn't, so he actually wasn't quite sure why he was doing it. Inuyasha really was not too fond of ass kissing, and so naturally he had threatened to have all his advisors beheaded if they didn't shut up. For some reason, as if they thought he was serious, everyone always got real quiet after he said that.

No, actually, he really should be going to bed. It had been a long day, and he might have actually drunk enough to feel a slight tingling in his limbs. Inuyasha had never been drunk before in his life. Tipsy, maybe, but never drunk. He didn't think it would be a very bright idea for him to stick around and keep drinking. But there they were, giggling and whispering behind their hands, carrying sake jugs between them. All scantily clad, wearing too much unnatural shit on their faces, and smelling of scented ointments. Didn't these women know that inu youkais had strong noses? Apparently not. Inuyasha resisted the urge to sneeze violently as one of them poured him more sake. He sent the girl a threatening, withering glare, and she hurredly scampered away. Good. He watched, unamused as the women danced around them, draped themselves and sat in random men's laps, and chattered.

Normistu smiled at him.

"A toast, Inuyasha sama?"

Inuyasha hated being called sama. It sounded weird. And he always felt that some of them were using it purely to mock him, like now.

"Keh, what for?" he shot back defensivly.

Normitsu raised an eyebrow, still smiling. He lifted his cup. "Why, for your successful and healthy reign over Musashi, my lord."

Inuyasha grudgingly picked up his sake and held it up. Well, if he had to be in the presence of yet another annoying bastard, he might as well drink.

"How are you feeling, Inuyasha sama?" Normitsu asked him from over the top of the blond headed lynx youkai grinding against him in his lap.

"Hm?" Actually, he was feeling quite pleasant, very warm and fuzzy. Why hadn't he tried this sooner?

"I must say, you can hold your liquor better than I anticipated."

No, he was shit faced.

"Why don't you have some fun?"

"Hm? Sure." He wondered briefly what could possibly be considered fun in this kami forsaken castle. But before he knew it, there was a face in front of him. He was pretty sure it was female. He inhaled. Yep, human female. Well, all righty then. Hm…? What was she doing? Oh nothing, she was just sitting in his lap.

Carry on madam. .

Inuyasha was thinking that maybe the human female was feeling a bit sleepy, she was hanging all over him. And she kept shifting around. Hm… she should really stop. She would go to sleep much faster if she stayed still and in one spot. Like Kagome. Kagome hardly ever moved when she slept.

He put his hands on her shoulders, attempting to steady the squirming girl. Instead, she seemed to fal forward, like she was going to land on his face or something. Hm… we mustn't have that. He threw his hands out in front of him, splaying his hands on her front. There, better, she wouldn't fall. Victorious!Oh, wait… maybe she was still falling? It sure seemed like it. Her face seemed to be getting gradually closer—or was it rapidly?-

Haha, she fell on my lips! Clumsy girl… you always were clumsy, I'm always having to catch you. It's okay, I like holding you.

Hm… you have something sticky on your lips, my sweet.

…I think Miroku is rubbing off on me.

Inuyasha scrunched up his nose, filled with the overwhelming desire to sneeze. She smelled. She doesn't smell right.

"Kagome… "

What the hell was she wearing? But Kagome, he loved Kagome…

"Kagome… " he whimpered.

He let out a whine. What was Kagome doing?

His eyes flew open.

The girl had brown eyes. Not blue. And she smelled bad. Very bad.

"You're not Kagome," he stated blankly.

The girl in his arms giggled, putting a hand to her mouth. "No, but I can be, Inuyasha- sama."

Kagome would never call him sama.

He was suddenly overcome with a sudden bout of unreasonable—or was it reasonable?—anger. "You aren't her!" He shouted.

He shoved the girl off his lap, and jumped to his feet. He sprinted out of the room, colors seemed to blend together and whir past his eyes. Noises seemed loud and melted together. All the smells, the smells were confusing. Where was Kagome? His feet seemed to be carrying him to a place, but what place? Ah, a futon.

He threw himself down on it, a sigh of content leaving his lips.

His lips.

Not Kagome's lips.

Kagome's soft, soft petal pink lips, the lips that were luscious, always smiling. They were warm, felt warm, said warm things.

He whined. Why did his chest hurt? Kagome, Kagome could make it better. She had little round things for him to swallow… and then she would rub him tummy and laugh… Hm… maybe later. He would ask her after he woke up. She was with Sango, anyways, at the hot springs… Miroku… lecher…

: : : : :

A/N: There you go fellas! The next update won't be for a while, it's not entirely prewritten. Just to inform you all, this is not going to be a very long fan fic, somewhere between 10 chapters, I think.

Please review!


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